


Scar Tissue

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Post TFA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: He doesn't want her to touch.





	1. Chapter 1

He guards his body from her, at first. She thinks to begin with that it’s pain that makes his sides flinch, pain that keeps him from letting her relearn his skin. 

She understands. The smell of filth never seems to leave her hair, and that was just an indignity, just a minor thing. It would have been fine for the smuggler and the Wookie to take her by surprise in a way, because they’d even taken the Empire itself by surprise, but the gall of that traitor, FN-2187? No.

She also tries not to think about how she saw his father, right before these marks were added to his tallies. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Lines of loss, and would they have managed to land so many blows had she been there to help him? Would she have protected him, or been a hindrance?

But it shouldn’t hurt, not any more. The skin is healed, though he acts like it isn’t. He acts like he’s still bleeding out from them, though she can’t see what. He guards his body like he’s expecting her to attack, and he slides her hands away from his scars. Deflects them to his lips for kisses, or pins them under his own.

Her tongue tries to lick away the memory from his neck, but Kylo won’t allow it. He attempts to intercept her kisses, and she mourns the vast swathes of himself he’ll never let her near.

It isn’t just his skin that’s scarred, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

His eyes linger, and she’s never felt self-conscious before. Not around anyone but him, but that’s because no one else really sees what’s there.

Or, more precisely, they see her, but they see a body that is honed for battle. It’s just a frame, and they don’t see her as something individual or personal. If they do, she doesn’t feel it, but she does under his gaze.

She feels her body tingle with selfish need when he looks. She remembers that she exists as a creature it’s possible to desire, even if she feels indifferent to herself. It’s his gaze that gives her this new worth, that makes her nipples sensitive to the slightest brush. His wanting of her makes her wantable at all.

His attention follows the newest imperfection, a slice to her torso, where her armour buckled under the pressure. It’s not dangerous, but it’s obvious. It points down to her navel, and she begs inside her head for him to follow the line and forget it.

It’s a flaw. It’s a weakness. If she’d been better, it wouldn’t be there, and she…

“Please,” he whispers, “…be careful.”

His ardour isn’t dimmed by her marks, but it’s tempered with worry.

“I try.”

His hands follow the battle memories, and she breathes deeply. Scar tissue is supposed to feel less, but she doesn’t believe it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Mending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672128) by [Davechicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken)




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